


Soul Deep

by NarcolepticApathy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ancestors, Ancestors (Homestuck), But you already knew that, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Character Death, Earth C (Homestuck), Eridan Ampora/Sollux Captor Kismesissitude, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Fuck Hussie, Fuck all of the epilouges, Just general quadrant fuckery, M/M, Mindfang is an asshole, Reckoning AU, Swearing, becasue, eridan ampora is not an asshole, will probably add more tags as i go, y'know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:34:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarcolepticApathy/pseuds/NarcolepticApathy
Summary: In which a sea dweller on Earth C finds the diary entries of his ancestor only to find out that the ancestor was a gay disaster for a certain gold blooded revolutionist.**ON HIATUS FOR UNKNOWN AMOUNT OF TIME**





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

> Yeppp this is a thing I'm writing  
> So yeah, first post on here is a weird pair to start out with, but whatever. I like the ancestors fite me lol.  
> This is definitely going to be part of a series of stuff that happens post game that is not even close to cannon compliant.  
> So yeah hope ya like it.

            Eridan sat hunched over his desk, the only thing illuminating the papers on it being a lamp in the shape of a honeycomb courtesy of Sollux four perigrees ago. It had been about two sweeps since Eridan had fallen on Earth C via meteor, and in that time he was reunited with Sollux and Feferi, who decided to bring him into their now, quoting Karkat, “Four-way quadrant vacillation fuckery.” As the name implies, relationships between him, Sollux, Feferi and Aradia vary constantly, yet through scheduling and communication, they’ve been able to make it work. After all, they were around eight sweeps old now, and even if a large portion of that time was stuck at the perpetual body of a thirteen year old, they had at least mentally aged to the point of being at least semi competent.

The papers he read were ship logs dating back thousands of sweeps to a vessel known as _The Mantis_ (The Name of the ship was of course meant to mirror his well-known kismesis’ main ship, ‘The Widow’, since a personal favorite prey of the praying mantis was the black widow spider. Was it petty? Yes. Was it important? No. Does Eridan care that it’s not important? Absolutely not.)  He didn’t think it was particularly important, as it didn’t contain anything of importance about his ancestor aside from the status and supply list of the ship that week, but it was one of the few recovered documents handwritten by Orphaner Dualscar himself. This was what the former prince had been doing for most of his time on the new planet, looking over and cataloging the history of the new and old worlds alike. His other former hobbies were either outlawed or pointless around here which had previously made him quite surly, but over time he had accepted it and stuck with looking back at the past.

 The sea dweller sighed in disappointment as he got to the end of the log. On some rare occasions there would be something interesting that was recorded in the logs which would send him on wild feather-beast chase but alas, those sorts of things came few and far between. A part of him was jealous of Vriska, who had the privilege of obtaining one of Mindfang’s diaries from one of her adventures. It would have been a fantastic addition to his collection of historical records, but the spider bitch had kept the book from everybody, much to the sea-dweller's disappointment.

A knock on his door made Eridan turn from the records and arched a brow at the sight of Aradia of all trolls at the frame. She wore her usual terrifying grin and ‘exploring outfit’ which was just some cargo shorts with a beige button up embroidered with her sign on its chest pocket. The most concerning article of clothing to Eridan, however, were her boots.

“You better not track dirt in my room again or I swear to Gog I will shoot you.” He muttered as his face scrunched up in distaste.

“Well you can certainly try afterwards but I don’t think you’ll want to damage what I got for you!” Somehow her grin was able to spread even farther than it already had as she stepped over to his chair. “A meteor when down not too far from here so I went to investigate before the others got there and you’re going to be so glad I did.”

Eridan hummed at her claim. A meteor crashing nearby former players was not unorthodox in the slightest, though the contents of said meteors being something that could be captchalouged was far less common. “Well? What is it?” He mused, picking up a half finished bottle of faygo and taking a small sip.

He almost dropped the bottle when Aradia uncaptchalouged a series of books onto the table, causing the other items scattered across it to jump a bit. That wasn’t what made Eridan’s jaw hang however. No, what made him speechless was the symbol on the spine of all of the books. It was his sign, though more importantly, the sign of his ancestor.

“Aradia, is- is this what I think it is?”

“Judging by what I was able to skim through, it seems to be the diary entries of your ancestor, unless there’s another guy who has your sign and talks about ships” Her grin was starting to look like a smirk before it suddenly shifted to an ‘o’ face.

“Oh Right! Before I forget, I have a message from Sollux for you hang on…” She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a white sticky note. “He says, and I quote, ‘Eat your fuckiing piill2 you fi2hy biitch.’”

Eridan rolled his eyes and carefully picked up the first volume of Dualscar’s diary.  “Next time you see him tell him to fuck off.” He grumbled.

“He thought you would say that. To that he says, ‘Hey iif you can bug me about my p2iioniic 2uppre22iion piills, II can bug you about the med2 that keep you from beiing a genociidal maniiac.’”

He turned back to Aradia at that. “Well in that case, send him this” He stuck his tongue out at her, to which she simply laughed and walk out of the room (although not before giving him some double finger guns.)

Once she was out of sight, he shifted his attention back to the new book, laying his hand over the cover as if to make sure that it was still there. Ship logs and informative writing was one thing, but this was a _diary_. It was events from his ancestor’s perspective, possible secrets that were taken to his grave, thoughts and feelings towards everything and anything, it was an _epic_.

Before he could get to open the book however, a little voice in the back of his head made Eridan’s gaze shift to the bottle of lime green pills by the gaudy desk lamp. His lip turned upward in a grimace at the capsules that Sollux reminded him of. They were pills of sopor extract, carefully measured to keep high blooded trolls balanced between “high as balls” and “tempted by the violent impulses that make them wish to slaughter all those below them.” As much as Eridan hates Sollux, and how his reminder was indirectly delaying him from looking over the find of his life, he was right. He begrudgingly grabbed the bottle of pills, popped it open, shook one of the capsules out and swallowed it dry. Probably not the best thing to do, but he was too eager to start reading to worry about choking. Setting the medication aside, he tentatively opened up the first volume of Dualscar’s diaries, practically holding his breath as he read the words of his ancestor.


	2. Oh, How am I Going to be an Optimist About This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: eh. I don't think I'll put too much effort into this.  
> Also Me:*spends an our looking up Alternian cities by a coast*

_Dear ~~book~~ Diary,_

_Mindfang suggested I keep a record of my travwels that’s meant for my eyes only. Wvhy anyone wvould need or wvant to wvrite something like this I don’t knowv, it seems stupid and an easy wvay to get culled if you slip up. But since she called me a nook kisser for not doing it I’m writing this out of spite._

_Fuck wvhat do I evwen put in here?_

_I guess my day hasn’t been…awvful? Nothing really happened it wvas just super boring as per fuckin usual. You wvould think that a vwiolet blood with a successful career in pirating wvould havwe an fun life most of the time but NOPE! Turns out it’s really fuckin monotonous out here._

_…This wvas a bad idea_

_\----_

Your name is ORPHANER DUALSCAR and you’ve stepped off the gangplank of your ship, stepping aside to allow the few rustbloods you hired for heavy lifting to haul off all your goods into the awaiting cart. It’s just turned to evening and looking off into the outskirts of the seaport you can see the zombies collapsing and fading to dust, knowing they will come back by next sunrise. This is a detour from your usual cycles in alternian waters, though it wasn’t taken without reason. There’s one particular oliveblood who opens the doors to their trade once every two sweeps and you’ll be damned if you don’t turn a profit on those nigh priceless goods of hers. Once the lowbloods finished their job you pass them their payment and head on your way.

Turning back you can see the confusion in the trolls’ faces and sigh.  You know they were likely scared for their life when deciding to work for you, probably thinking they didn’t have much choice despite your insistence. Social norms and highblood compulsions say that you should have culled them after they were finished, given your career and title, but for some reason you just… can’t bring yourself to do it. You never can. Of course, if it ever came out officially that the infamous orphaner never hurt a troll, you’d certainly become the laughing stock of the Alternian seas, if not culled on the spot by a group of laughsassins.

The thought the land dwelling highbloods makes you clench the reigns of your hoof-beasts as you stride through the city of Bandar. You don’t mind lower parts of the hemospectrum but boy do you hate subjuglators. They mix the pretentiousness of most nobility with all the worst aspects of harlequins into this nightmare of a blood caste. Now’s not the time to focus on that though. Now’s the time to that trolls shop.

One of the issues with only going somewhere once every two sweeps is trying to remember where everything is, especially if they reoriented some things for renovations. You attempt to navigate the surprisingly bustling central road that passes through the coastal town, rolling up your boots to try not to get sand in them (though it never works.) The night air is cold and dry as the moons rise on the horizon. Trolls huddle and chatter amongst themselves, keeping their heads bowed and close to the sandstone walls. You stop at the usual inn you frequent. It’s well kept, and the expenses for renting a room alone deter most people from staying in fear of potential highblood wrath. Though you don’t like the reason why it’s so desolate, you do like the quiet on the main floor. You rent a room for the next few nights and lead the cart into the nearby stables, making sure the violet cloth can easily be seen to show who it belongs to.

Now with all that settled, you head out once again, now in search for the merchant. It’s not that hard to find her abode, what with the elaborate paintings on the walls of her shop and the door with her sign. Once you step through the door however, you frown at the vacancy of the establishment. Everything seems to be in order, with the store illuminated by a limelight that reveals the rows of books and scrolls filled with stories and epics of her imagination. You’re sure that you have the date right, unless she changed it up on you (if that’s the case you’re going to be so pissed.) You walk over to the desk area and find a note on the counter, written in frantic text.

_“(0w0) OFF TO THE SICKLES RESPITE, COME BACK LAPUR. IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING ANY OF MY TAILS I WILL BE ABLE TO FIND YOU AND WILL NOT LIKE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT”_

_-THE HUNTRESS_

You click your tongue in confusion. It certainly states where she is now, but has not explanation as to why. You’re also confused as to why it’s so rushed. You know her writing and she barely added any cat puns in the note. She really must have been in a rush for some reason.

Wanting to know the answers to this new mystery, you set off to find this ‘Sickles Respite.’ After consulting a map, you eventually find the inn but stop just outside the door. The place itself is not nearly as nice as the one you are staying in, and from what you can guess with the worn out welcome mat it’s a common place for trolls to stay. Through the door you can only hear one troll speaking, their voice sounding soft yet firm in a way that you can’t properly elaborate in words. Curiosity taking over, you quietly open the door to see and hear what was happening.

The room is packed, full of trolls from across the hemospectrum all with their attention on a man sitting on the bar. He’s shrouded with a dark grey shawl that covers up most of his head aside from his face and rounded horns. The cloth drapes over his shoulders and is pinned with a bright red pin. Under that he seems to be wearing black robes with a scarlet belt just above his hips. You can’t see his eyes from here, and his outfit doesn’t even have a sign to identify his caste. Next to him you can see three trolls, one of which being the bookkeeper you’ve been looking for. You cast that objective aside for a moment to listen to the trolls preaching.

“Why must we have hatred for one another because of the color of our blood? We all have the same life. We all have fears, dreams, and hopes, what makes us so different form one another? If this need for cruelty and violence was in our nature, then why do we all find it so troubling? Why would stand to listen to a man who only dares to ask the questions we’ve all been thinking? Know that I have these fears, dreams, and hopes too. I have fears that the people who I know, have known, and will know will be infected with this terrible blood lust or will be the victim of it themselves. I have dreams of a world that embraces one another with love and respect, a world that doesn’t care about the blood in your veins, only the thoughts and feelings of yourself and others. I have hopes that we will as throw down our weapons and cast aside our differences and care for each other as people. I know I don’t ask of much, and I hope all of y-“

He stops his sermon when his eyes gaze upon you and he just… stares. His eyes are filled with a grief and longing that should be saved for moirails who thought each other dead for hundreds of sweeps. The troll silently mouths a few words, then suddenly dashes out of the bar into a room, muttering apologies to those he passes by. You’re left standing there at the door way, trying to process what just happened, and why the man’s eyes looked so damn familiar.


	3. I Know His Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can ignore the first segment if you want, it's just a summary of what happened in the last chapter and the diary entry in italics. tbh I just wanted a conversation between Karkat and Eridan because fuck have you SEEN there pesterlogs? It's great I love them.
> 
> Also I will be shocked if anyone is able to tell what song I referenced for the chapter title of this one.

                 Karkat sighed wearily as he walked back into his hive. It’s not that he didn’t like his job governing the entire troll kingdom, but if he hears one more fucking complaint about the postal service he’s going to flip the fucking coffee table into the TV and slam his head through the wall. Why do people call him about that anyways, that’s not his job, it’s the Peregrine Mendicants postal servi-

                 The troll’s train of thought is derailed by the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket. Groaning he pulls it out to see that it’s… wait what? He accepts the call and puts it up to his ear.

                 “Eridan?”

                 “Hey Karkat listen-“

                 “Dude, why the fuck are you calling right now it’s the middle of the ni- wait stupid question you’re still on a nocturnal sleeping schedule. Fucking dammit. What the shit do you want I’m tired and more grumpy than usual?”

                 “Aradia found something from a recent meteor that crashed.”

                 “Shit there’s a new meteor?”

                 “Yes yes yes now shut up I’m trying to tell you about it-“

                 “Fucktard-“

                 “OI! Anyhow, she opened it up and found- get this- the diaries of Orphaner Dualscar!”

                 “Oh shit that’s like your fucking dream come true.”

                 “Right??? So I started reading it and there’s this entry that I may want to clarify with you if that’s alright.”

                 Karkat takes this time to sit down on the couch before responding “Sure, tell me about it.”

                 “Alright” Damn, he can practically feel how excited Eridan is.

_‘Dear Diary,_

_I can’t believe I’m picking up this damn book again but I need to wvrite this dowvn._

_It wvas supposed to be a quick thing, Just the easy detour to get some novwels and go, but nowv it’s… it’s something else. The Huntress wvasn’t there wvhen I came ovwer to her shop, and the note she left led me to this dingy tavwern. She wvas wvith this wveird preacher troll talking about equality and… damn I can’t even say it was shit because it really wvasn’t. I guess it struck a chord wvith me or something? I dunno, what he said just… made a lot of sense to me. But the really wveird thing is wvhen he sawv me. He fucking looked at me like I wvas his old lusus. Damn, that wvould be pitifully ironic. I can practically hear Mindfang cackling in the distance… Fuck her’_

The rest of the entry isn’t that important for right now, but doesn’t that preacher guy sound like the signless and the disciple?”

                 “…Huh. Yeah it kinda does. Damn that changes a lot of things doesn’t it?”

                 “You bet your ass it does. Gog, I can’t wait to read more of this- I’ll tell you about more of this as soon as I can.”

                 “Bluh, make that in the morning, I feel like I’m going to pass out… You can talk to me tomorrow night but I can barely process what your voice hole is saying right now.”

                 “Oh fine, go coddle your human lover or whatever, but you better keep that promise Vantas.”

                 “Not a promise but whatever…”

* * *

 

                 You trudge back up to your room in a blur, still trying to figure out what was up with that guy. The troll was certainly convincing it was kind of nice to hear your feelings be put into words like that, even if it was going to get him culled. Poor dude.

                 Wait! Dammit you shouldn’t feel bad for him, or any his followers for that matter! You’re a sea dweller dammit, a ruthless high blood, fucking act like it!  If her imperious condescension heard what you were saying you would probably get culled if she had any mercy.

                 Not much of what you should or shouldn’t be thinking actually matters though, since you didn’t get what you were supposed to come here for, that being the Huntress’ books. Unfortunately for you, judging by how close she hung around the preacher, you won’t be getting those stories anytime soon. Growling to yourself, you lean against the recoupracoon of the room you’re staying in. If things had gone smoothly you would have spent the rest of the night bartering prices and skimming the results of your transactions (that process then should’ve repeated over the next few nights, there’s a reason you rent for more than one night after all), but instead you seem to be stuck here for the next few hours.

                You leaf through the items in your sack. A few works of fiction that you’ve been rereading, some half-finished grub snacks, a large assortment of guns and knives just in case and… oh.

                You hold up the old diary Mindfang had given you a couple sweeps ago. You must have stuffed it in the bag thinking it was one of the books you had been reading. You stare at it for a moment. Perhaps writing about your conflicted feelings could help you vent while passing the time (Gog you sound like some sort of emo wriggler…)

                You decide to sit down and scribe what happened on paper before reading through a few chapters of one of the volumes you brought along as the hours stretch on. Eventually the second moon starts to fall past the horizon so you decide to head into the recoupracoon early, leaning one of your trusty rifles on the side of the husk as a precaution. You close your eyes hoping the sopor is high enough potency to keep away daymares.

                Once up the next evening you get dressed and prepare for your departure back into the ocean. Perhaps the huntress will be available today, and you can actually get a profit during this visit, but if not, there’s no point in staying any longer. You saunter down the steps to cancel your room and get to your cart only to stop at the foot of stairs. At the front desk is the preacher, still clad in the same cowl and surrounded by the same entourage you saw yesternight talking to the teal-blood who works at the establishment. The huntress is who you hear talking first.

                “We’re looking for a violet blood. He’s tall, horns kind of look like lightning bolts, likes carrying a gun around, has a giant scar across his face that he has a different story for every single time you ask him-“(Hey…True, but hey-) As she’s talking to the clerk the hooded troll glances over at the stairwell and does a double take when he sees you. As soon as he does his face literally _brightens,_ nudging the huntress before walking over to you quickly. As soon as he gets about two feet from you you reflexively pull up your pistol, stopping him just short of arms reach.

 

                The troll puts his hands up passively, turning back only to raise a hand, signaling his compatriots to stand down (damn that jade blood just brought out a giant fucking saw, how did you not see that?) “…Okay I honestly I should have seen that coming but will you please just hear me out?”

                Even though it really shouldn’t, his opening demeanor and soothing voice placates you somewhat.  You tell yourself that it’s only because of your curiosity about the encounter at ‘The Sickle’s Respite’ that you slowly lower your gun after a few seconds. You continue to tell yourself this as you head back into your rented room with the four other trolls and lock the door.

                Once you do, you do an actual once over each of the other members of his party. Of course there’s the Huntress, still wearing her usual outfit, a torn up sleeveless skirt bearing her sign around her neck and baggy, pocketed pants that bunch up by her ankles. What’s different is the book she holds closely to her chest, bearing a sign you do not recognize.

                Then there’s the Jade blood, wearing an elaborate green striped dress that connects to a translucent drape by her shoulders. You… don’t actually see where she put the saw now that she isn’t wielding it, which should make you worried and yet… you don’t seem to be. Odd.

                And finally the gold blood, who wears a short poncho with his sign on the front that seems to fit on him quite nicely. As you look over him more, you also notice the slim figure and way he holds himself in such a way that kind of has a sort of grace to it, like an elegant- what the actual fuck are you thinking right now???

                “So, er, Dualscar, was it? I’m sure you must be a bit confused as to why I have come to talk to you, having only just seen you the other night, yes”

                It takes you a bit to turn your attention away from the Psionic, as much as you would hate to admit. “Well yeah, you interrupted your whole spiel just to stare at me and run so I think I am pretty damn confused.”

                “Yes, well you see… this may sound like the mad rambling of a subjugglator on too much sopor, but saw you in a vision.” The statement leaves you speechless long enough for him to continue.  “Ever since I was young, I have had these dreams of a world much like our own. It was of a land known as Beforus, and in that world I had befriended trolls that had spanned across the entire hemospectrum. There was no hatred for each other, no violent hostility, just people seeing each other as people, regardless of the color of our blood.” He smiles again as he looks up at you. “The reason I had to talk to you was because…you were one of the people I saw, Dualscar.”

                He pauses now seeming to expect a response for that hoof beast shit. As much as you like this guy’s ideals, you’re having a very hard time believing this guy’s not crazy. You scoff and cross your arms, giving him a cruel smirk as you indulge his delusions for the moment “Is that so? If what you claim is true, tell me something that only a ‘friend’ would know about me.”

                He takes a moment before he replies, closing his eyes as if trying to recall a memory a long time ago. “… Your real name is Cronus Ampora, you write with Ws after your Vs and Vs after your Ws, when you write in all caps you use the same quirk as Aranea but you refuse to say why, you generally like fantasy but especially like anything involving magic to the point that you like to try it sometimes, even if you naturally come off as pretentious and think you’re above people you try to be as nice as you can, even if people don’t think your being genuine you just really want people to like you or at least notice you and the reason why you’re called Orphaner Dualscar is probably beca-“

                He doesn’t finish the end of that sentence because you already got your hand frantically covering his mouth and braced up against the wall. “Shut up, Shut up, SHUT UP. I believe you, okay? Just stop talking right now!” You hope he can’t hear the air of panic to your voice, but he probably can. What the FUCK. No one knows half of that stuff, not even your kismesis. There was no way he would have gotten all of that from the business transactions you’ve had with the huntress. You try to think of any possible way he could have figured that out but your drawing up fucking blanks right now.

                As soon as he nods you let go of him, stepping back to go to the opposite side of the room. As you try to quietly get your breathing back in control you ask him, “Who the fuck are you?”

                “I go by the Signless” The troll responds calmly. “These people are called the Disciple, Dolorosa and Psionic.” He says gesturing to the huntress, the jade-blood and the gold-blood. “I’ve been trying to search for my other friends and you are the fourth one I have discovered.”

                You can only nod as you calm down enough to stand up straighter. “So what now, am I supposed to join your little band now?”

                “If you want,” The Signless tilts his head slightly, “We were hoping to hitch a ride with you, as I doubt we’ll be around in this town much longer. Will you be alright with that?”

                You bow your head. With how much he knows about you, it’s not like you have much choice. Your answer is quiet and slightly timid, being thoroughly terrified by this ‘Signless’

                “…Yeah I’m sure I can think of something…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I think Good Omens is bleeding into my writing with how I'm planning the next few interactions. Why? You'll have to see for yourself.  
> EDIT: Okay idk why it's showing the end notes for chapter one but it is i guess? as far as I can see anyhow. If anyone can tell me how to fix this i'd appreciate it.


	4. I'd Get On My Knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I ever make a story title that isn't a lyric to a song? Will i stick to a consistent tense in this fic? Who knows??? Find out next time!

                They stayed in your block after that, apparently now afraid to show their faces outside. You yourself only went out there to get some food and to schedule the end of your reservation. You also asked the disciple if it was alright for you to take some of the books from her shop now that it was likely going to be destroyed by whatever highbloods they pissed off.

                She cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the inquiry. “You would really go into the home of a fugitive just so you could get the last book of _If You Were Church_?”

                “You left the last book on a cliff hanger! Besides, the names of your stories don’t leave any hints of what’s going to happen, why do you think I liked your shit?” You growled. This was ridiculous. Of all things to give you sass for… “Why did you only open up once every two sweeps anyhow?”

                The disciple shrugged. “I never needed money; I could always get food and shelter for myself. Also I didn’t use to do that; I kept it open for a really long time like, sweeps back to get people interested. I only did rare openings because I enjoy watching trolls scrambling to get into my shop like a meow beast playing with hungry squeak creatures.” She grinned with enough sinister intent to make you step back a bit at the last remark (Not that it wasn’t too surprising, given her old title)

                “You… is that a yes on the book thing then?” You leave again once she noded, grabbing an empty satchel before you walked out the door.

                Back out in the streets, you made sure to keep a pistol visibly on hand, storming through the streets with purpose so no one would want to try and mess with you. Seeing the building in the distance, you silently cursed to yourself, as you noticed a group of indigo’s hanging by the door. It seemed like they don’t want to look like they’re keeping watch of the place but are failing miserably from your perspective, leaning against the walls of the adjacent buildings in pairs. From your vantage point you could see six of them, and coming closer you can see a couple of ceruleans in the midst. With your lip curled up into a snarl, you strode past them with purpose and burst the door open.

                Inside it was dark, with all of the lights previously lit now snuffed out, but in the darkness you can still see the distinct outline of two trolls, one teal blood and one indigo. They both seemed to be on the higher side of their respective castes and certainly dressed like it. The teal held up a copy of _A Million Reasons_ with disgust etched onto their face before they look at you and squint.

                “Who the fuck are you? How did you- never mind, what the hell are you doing here?” The blue blood sneered at you.

                “I think you’ll find that’s none of your business.” You replied tartly, reaching over and grabbing some of the novel you haven’t seen in her collection and stuffing it into the satchel.

                “’None of my business’ eh?” You rolled your eyes as the troll chuckled haughtily. Fuck him. “I think you’ll realize it certainly is my business.” He walked towards you as he drew a knife from up his sleeve. Damn, he’s trying to make it be like that now is he? You don’t have time for this.

                You put your hand up so he can see you press your nails into your palm, drawing out violet blood to flow down your arm. The display of your hue seemed to stop him in his tracks, as well as make his partner gasp in surprise. “Good to know your eyes are working.” You muttered, putting your hand down and snatching a few more books. With that you turn around and walked out of the abandoned shop without another word. Not that you need to, blue bloods tend to not ask questions in the face of “royalty.”

                You glanced up at the night sky as you get back to the inn. The second moon was at its peak, indicating it was past midnight. Once inside, you closed the door behind you with your back and dropped the satchel on the bed. You decided it was probably a good time to tell them your plan.

                “Alright, its past midnight and we’ll be heading out in the morning, so it’s best if you guys start packing now if y-“

                “Oh my Gog , what the fuck happened to your hand!?”

                You raised an eyebrow at the suddenly concerned gold blood, then down at your hand. Huh, you had forgotten about the injury.  You probably left a trail on the way here, dammit. Sighing, you fetched some bandages from your back and started to wrap your palm in a few layers of cloth, which seemed to make the psionic less distressed. As you do so, the disciple stalked over to your bag and started to pull out the books you took.

                “Hm, _If You Were Church,_ that’s expected… _Until Your Lungs Give Out,_ nice choice, I had fun writing that one… ah, _Held By You,_ iconic…. Wait.” She picked up the last two books and overlooked all the other ones as well. “…Did you seriously get _all_ of my pale-porn books?”

                The Dolorosa’s jaw dropped in horror and the Signless doubled over in laughter as you covered your face with your good hand to hide your bright Violet complexion. Why did she have to point that out? She didn’t have to do that. What the fuck Disciple? You expressed your thoughts between your groans of embarrassment. She responded by rolling her eyes and stuffing the books back in your bag.

                Once everyone had calmed down enough to actually listen, you continued. “As I was saying…if you guys want to keep anything it’s best to pack up now, though keep your best weapons on hand. You probably won’t need to fight the zombies if we’re quiet enough, but it’s best to be safe. With that in mind, it’s best if you put on some layered plain clothes, function over fashion and whatnot. We’ll leave through the window with the lights off and the room spotless, and once outside I’ll guide you guys to my ship so we can take off. Are we good with this?”

                They all nod and started to get ready. By the time the sun had started to peak on the horizon everyone was prepared to go. You wore a tan overcoat with a hooked hood that covered most of your face; the Signless was garbed in a lighter cowl, but was otherwise the same, the disciple wore a dark brown cloak over her normal outfit, the Dolorosa had a pale hooded robe, and the Psionic wore a uniform primarily dyed with his blood color.

                You opened the window and hopped outside, having to immediately bow your head at the intense light of the sun as you moved out of the way for the others. Once they all came out you closed the door and lead the way through the barren streets towards the docks, keeping towards the shadows.

                Something tells you this is going to be a long day.


	5. Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all remember how one of kanaya's quirks was about how her chainsaw was good against "heinous broods of the undead" that came out during the day? 
> 
> That.

          The Sun immediately beat down on all of you as you traversed through the town, with the light colored walls of sandstone reflecting rays of light back into your squinting eyes. You checked your twin pistols with modified barrels to muffle the sound in case you have to use them. Since it was dawn, there weren’t any trolls out, making the formerly bustling city look like a ghost town. The ghost town turned into a zombie town pretty quickly however as you see the ground begin to shift and unsettle in a nearby alleyway.

          “Shit, they’re coming out. This way.” You turned to a quieter alley and looked back at your party. Most of them seemed to fair the Alternian sun as well as you are, except for the Dolorosa who looked… fine.  Okay then. You turned back to the path ahead of you and start navigating the back roads, now seeing more lifeless husks stumbling between the hives.

           Silence was very important when trying to move in daylight. Not only do you not want to awaken other trolls, but there are numerous auditory triggers that can get the attention of nearby zombies. This was why you were moving slower than you would have wanted, as you preferred safer passage to your ship rather than faster. That plan when out the window however, when around half way there you abruptly halted when the Signless let out a muffled scream. Whipping around, you saw the troll, sickles raised towards a decayed, skeletal hand that was clutching his ankle and the Dolorosa covering his mouth. Before you could shoot it the disciple was already on it and slashed the hand clean off with her claws. Unfortunately that doesn’t stop the moving corpse from fully emerging and letting out a high pitched whine. It’s the kind that few people aside from certain highbloods can hear.

          Well, that and every animated body in a half mile radius.

          Eyes widened with sudden fear, you shot the body in the head and hissed as the recoil of the gun upset the puncture wounds still recovering in your bandaged palm.  “Run!” You Shout-whispered at the others before you sprinted towards the now visible docks. You could already see a swarm of shambling carcasses headed your way.

          You were about forty feet away from the harbor when a whole mass of them rose by the foot of the pier, stopping all of you in your tracks. “Dammit!” Looking back, you see more zombies from the streets heading towards the commotion. You headed to the back of the group as they huddle back-to-back, shooting walkers from a distance alongside the psionic, who seemed to be trying control his breathing. The others had their weapons drawn and cleaved through any creatures that got too close.

          As soon as you assessed the situation of your group you squint through the daylight to try to assess how many living dead were headed to you all. Unfortunately the sun had risen higher, so visibility had gotten even worse than before and left you relatively clueless. From what you did see however, you doubt you have enough shots in either of the guns you have on hand to shoot all the corpses before they jammed. “We have to get through that legion of those fuckers; I don’t know how many of these I can hold back!”

          As if on cue, the gun in your hand made a fizzle and popping noise indicating it had been over used. You snarled in frustration and passed the second pistol into your good hand. At this point though, you doubt you’ve been hitting any targets reliably.

          Suddenly, a mixture of blue and red sparks appeared on your peripherals, and as you turned you saw technicolored bolts of lightning streak around the Psionic’s form, making you step back from the raw _power_ emanating from him. As he raised his hands the sparks converged and condensed to the center of his palms followed by a thrust with his arms that sent the psionic burst outward with gargantuan, but controlled force. The wave of psychic pressure slammed into the crowd of zombies shambling towards you and your group, obliterating a few and pushing the rest back several hundred feet. You were left in awe at the spectacle he performed as the flares of red and blue light flicker away.

          Once they had all disappeared the gold blood’s knees buckled, leaving you to catch him into your arms. You wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, turned to the others and pointed to the group of shambling carcasses, not trusting your voice. Thankfully they seem to catch your drift as the disciple joins you on the other side of the psionic and the signless…whispered something in the dolorosa’s ear. As soon as he did so the Jade blood nodded and charged towards the mass. While doing so she pulled out a capsule of lipstick that suddenly blurred and shifted into a serrated two-handed blade like…thing that then became a serrated two-handed _spinning_ blade like thing that instantly carved through most of the husks like ripping damp parchment. As she reaped through the corpses she let out something that resembled a war cry, if a war cry could also murder anyone in a five foot radius through sheer force of will. You don’t even have time to worry about someone hearing before you and the disciple shuffle past the now giant puddle of dust, flesh, bones, and rainbow colored blood, down the pier and onto your ship.

          As soon as everyone was on you carefully let go of the psionic, kicked the plank off onto the docks and brought the dolorosa over to the sails to lower the sails. Thankfully the water on this dock was rather deep so you didn’t have to go through too much of a hassle to get it away from shore. When you finished tying the ropes down you headed below deck gesturing the others to come down with you.

          When they were all inside and in your quarters you immediately plopped down on the awaiting chair by your chest and sigh. You then looked up to see the disciple and signless now holding the psionic up and pull yourself back up from the seat. ”Right, an okay first thing’s first, is he going to be alright?”

          The signless nodded. “He’s done stuff like that before, he’s going to need to rest for a while but he should be fine after that?”

          You blinked in bewilderment. “That’s it? He just did a psionic burst that was so powerful it would make any gold blood I know have a seizure but he’s going to be alright with a fucking power nap?”

          “Basically yeah”

          “Good Gog…” You stared at the psionic with a mix of surprise and concern before gesturing to your recoupracoon. “Alright, fine. We can put him in my coon and I’ll show you all where the rest of us’ll be sleeping.” You proceeded to help the two of them lay the gold blood down into it and stepped back to your desk, pulling up the paperwork you’re now going to have to bullshit because of these trolls “second er…” You gestured vaguely towards the jade blood.

          “Dolorosa.” She offers

          “Right. You. Just letting you know now, I’m now absolutely terrified of you and your lipstick of doom.”

          The Signless stared to have trouble hiding his laughter and the disciple didn’t’ even try.

          Once you pulled up all the papers you lead them out of you quarters and to the hall with the crew’s quarters. Halfway through it however, you stopped dead in your tracks. “…”

          “Dualscar? Is everything alright?”

          “Oh shit. Shit. SHIT!” You slam your hands into you face at your damn idiocy.

          The signless pipped up with a tone of alarm, “What is it, what’s wrong?”

          “…I left the fucking cart in the stable…”

          Now _that_ comment gets you a laugh from all three of them, which you choose to ignore in place of dragging your hands across your face. “Snowballs chance in hell we’re going back there though. Fuck me it had expensive shit too…whatever.”

          You finish guiding them down the hall to their quarters and stepped into one with the closest access to the rest of the ship. Before you clocked out for the night however, you pulled out the barely used diary. Thinking back, you shrugged and opened the book to its nearest page.

* * *

_Dear Diary,_

_I can safely say that tonight has been absolutely finger-wing creature shit crazy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, early update since I probably won't be able to upload next Saturday due to going on vacation  
> *Suddenly realizing i know jack shit about boats*  
> Ah fuck.


	6. No Liquor Left on the Shelf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains semi graphic imagery in the form of an italicized flashback and implications.  
> So, so many implications.

_The sound of thunder and screams tore through your ears as you fell to the ground and coughed up violet. You were younger, much younger, young enough to let out an involuntary chirr of pain as you tried to touch your newly tattered gills, unaware of how dangerous it was. You didn’t dare touch your face, not yet. Your mind was reeling, land tilted on its axis as you dragged yourself further up the shore. The sweet awful stench of blood hung heavy in the air which made you struggle not to vomit. You tried to open your eyes and cried tears that burned as pain lanced through your brain. Eventually your stained hands touched wood, cut and curved up into the form of some sort of vessel. You breathed a sigh of relief followed by fear, you knew this was shelter but there was a chance of culling by traversing on another’s land. However, tired of the rain, you hauled yourself aboard and below the structure and-_

You jump awake when the Dolorosa rested her hand on your shoulder. You got up immediately, still trying to figure out where you were. You started to regain your senses and saw the jade blood now stepping back, trying to open her hand out calmly as the signless did.

“Sorry about that, I merely came to inform you that the winds have stopped blowing, and we’ve left the bay a while back.”

You look over at where you had laid down, your diary now flipped over with some of the pages folded up. Huh, no wonder you had such a shitty dream, you didn’t even hop in the recoupracoon. You grumbled to yourself before acknowledging the Dolorosa. “Thanks for telling me, but why the fuck are you still awake?” You looked out the window to still see the sun that’s been streaking through the room, judging the time by its position.  It was pretty late in the day, but the sun was _barely_ skimming the ocean horizon. “Like I get that some people wake up early but we literally stayed up to fight a swarm of zombies earlier.”

The Dolorosa simply shrugged and smiled. “I just like the daylight.”

“…You just-you just like the dayli- who in the fu- you know what? I won’t even try to question it.” You looked around the cabin, only to remember your spare clothes are still in your currently occupied quarters. “Alright if there’s no wind you can raise the sails while I try to get the motor running. If you want you can rouse the others since it’ll probably be loud but I honestly don’t care about that.”

You left the room before she could respond and nodded to yourself when she left towards the stairs above deck. The boards creaked under your feet that made your resting grimace soften at its familiarity. You entered your actual quarters quietly, as not to wake up the jaded gold blood. You winced as the closet door creaked open, turning back to see if the Psionic a roused by the noise. With him still resting, you sighed in relief and started changing.

You wore a loose white shirt and plain brown pants that went to the knee when you stepped out and adjusted the titled “battery gloves” as the engineer of your old ship so eloquently called them. With a satisfied shake of your wrists you knelt down to where your boots were-

“Well that was certainly a view.”

You almost fell to the floor in shock and embarrassment when the Psionic spoke up behind you. He leaned on the edge of your recoupracoon, a lazy smile plastered to his face.

You sputtered and stammered long enough that your fins were surely glowing. “Just how long were you watching???”

“When you open the door in here. I was a bit uncomfortable with where I was but you looked oh-so invested in sneaking around and I didn’t want to stop you.” He looked down at his drenched clothes. “Before I get changed myself though, I have to ask,” He jutted his chin towards your gloves as he climbed out of the sopor. “Those are for handling psionic rods, yeah?”

Taken aback by the question, you looked down at your gloves and nodded. “I was going to get the motor started in hopefully the hour.”

You hear the Psionic hummed in acknowledgement. “Right then… I’ll see you there if I can.”

You don’t look back as you left the room, still flushed from the incident. The boots you wore clanked loudly against the stairs to the lowest floor of the ship. The area was filled with stacks of crates full of a variety of items, too many for you to care about at the moment as you stepped towards The Capsule.

The Capsule contains a large steel and glass cylinder with a rod embedded at the center of it. Multi colored sparks swirled inside, though not as much as you had thought. You took a mental note to replace it at your next stop as you kneeled down and flip open the case protecting the activation switch. You flipped it on, watching the contained psionic energy flow into the hole at the bottom of The Capsule and into the generator, making a loud whirring sound from below. Your ears folded down as the sound intensified, likely being heard across the ship with how loud it got.

When you saw the bars start to fill on the screen you stood back up and checked over the other capsules. Most of them were empty, save for the last one that was about half full from what could by handling this stuff over the years.

You heard the Signless going down the steps before you saw him, tilting your head back to acknowledge his presence.

“What… what the fuck is that noise?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Haven’t you ever been on a ship before?”

He shook his head. “My visions are ones of when I was young, before the time I had my adult molt, and I the Alternian desert was where I was born in this life.”

The Disciple and Dolorosa came down next while you shrugged at the Signless’ remark. “Well, this is called The Capsule. It contains psionic energy as a power battery. It’s better than almost any other form of raw power when it comes for transportation. That is, aside from… y’know.” The look on the Signless’ face indicated that he did not in fact ‘know,’ but ou cleared your throat instead. “That sort of thing is for space ships exclusively.” You didn’t want to try to explain that yet, especially with someone who was a very good candidate on board.

Speaking of which, you heard the Psionic coming down the stairs and turned fully to greet him, only for the words to die in your mouth.

The Psionic wore a fitted black shirt with violet cuffs a few sizes too big for him, as well as tan breeches that fit into his shoes, which was the only thing that actually was _his_.

The rest of the clothes he wore were _your_ clothes, from _your_ wardrobe.

The Disciple figured it out first after you, with her expression immediately shifting from confusion to utter, sinister glee. The second was the Dolorosa, who stared at you incredulously before rolling her eyes.

The Signless understood last, but was first to comment. “Wait, are those yours Cronus?”

The Disciple began to snicker and nodded, “Already, huh?”

 Before you could protest, the Signless continued to verbally ponder. “…but wait, does that mean you two… but then how… the dolorosa woke me up only a couple of minutes after she raised the sails… were you really that fast?”

At this point the Disciple howled in laughter as the Psionic stared at the troll with faux betrayal. “Shut up, nothing happened you ass!”

You held your hand to both hide your face and let out a cough. “Ahem! I think! Be going now!” There was no way you could be hiding your discomfort well as you swiftly moved past the Psionic up the stairs, making a beeline to your quarters.

Once there you slump down to the floor, hands covering your face as your groan.

“Either I’m going to kill these fuckers or they’ll be the death of me…”


	7. Entranced by the Final Ocean Breeze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: okay time to write this extra long chapter o-  
> Mom: hey you're going to a wedding that starts at noon!  
> Me: SONOFA-!
> 
> aaannywho, as great as the wedding was, I could only finish a part of this chapter today, so hopefully I'll finish it up tomorrow. (That is, unless I have to go to another wedding or smthn...)
> 
> EDIT:Second part done! now it's the full chapter! Though I suggest reading it from the beginning since I changed a bit of it

       You sat there and sulked for a while until you decided to get up and get to some of the paperwork had lain out on your desk. You’ve dealt with undocumented passengers before, though usually they would just be dropped off on your next stop.  These guys however seemed to want to _stay_ on here which makes this a lot more difficult. You’ll have to go buy a harbor sooner or later to get food, though it would be obvious to anyone that you would be getting more supplies needed for one troll, despite claims to travel alone. Most of the time you could just bribe someone so they don’t inspect the ship but if done a few too many times word will get around and that can lead to more attacks on you. You could also just say that they are slaves, but you doubt they would like that idea and other trolls might think they’re easy to take. That also could mean Mindfang could come by and plunder your vessel herself which… you honestly don’t know what you would do then. She reaped through everything you had on board; acting like all your shit is some sort of weird gift for her. It’s infuriating, which is how it’s supposed to be as you are in a kissmesitude with the young cerulean bastard. But now you had passengers, passengers that you actually did care about being taken away, which make that a far more serious situation. You could try to fight her, but with how small this ship is there isn’t nearly as much weaponry on here to take down the ship she’s likely using…

       You frowned at the dilemma. Unless you figured out a proper long term solution, you would guess that you have about a quarter of a sweep until people would actively come after you, tops. For now you put down that you’re traveling alone, and all the information that goes with that. Once you were finished with the last few forms you turned around to see through the window that had been letting in the moonlight that's illuminated your work. To the right part of it you can see a small island thinly lined with trees by its beaches with and what looked like steam coming from further in. 

       You stood up to look at it from the glass. The place didn't seem to have any settlements on the surface and looked like a desert further into the island. An alternian sailor early in their career might not think much of such a place, though you being a pirate veteran take note of it as a potential spot for hidden treasure by the land's sulfur pools.

       Smiling, you headed towards the door to direct the ship to the potential jackpot only to pause when you heard someone try at the door before knocked in a strange, upbeat rhythm. You stayed quiet for a moment before heading to the door and peeking out.

       The Psionic was at the crack in the door, their multi colored eyes blazing into you like headlights. “Hey, sorry for bothering you, I wanted to apologize for the whole…” He tugged at the shirt he was wearing, “You know. I didn’t want to wear my old outfits and I… honestly have very little impulse control. Sorry” He cast his gaze downward, whole body starting to tense up. It looked like he was waiting fo-

       …Oh Gog dammit.

       “It’s… It’s fine really; if you want me to get some actual clothes for you once we stop again I can do that. Actually, now that you bring it up, that’s probably a good idea for all of you.” The Psionic still didn’t look relaxed, but your response did seem to stop _something_ from happening, which was good.

       You opened the door completely to allow him in, only to see the other three trolls right beside him, weapons raised. They were putting them down, thankfully, but that still doesn’t really answer the question of why they had them out in the first place. You want to know the answer to that question, but knowing them they’ll probably just laugh or ignore the question entirely, so instead you remark, “You know, of all places to try and cull me you can’t get much worse than the doors to my own damn block.”

       The Signless sheepishly chuckled while the two women narrowed their eyes at you. You couldn’t be sure if it was out suspicion or disapproval for either of them. Regardless, the Psionic stepped into the room, pausing by the closet and turning to you. “Should I… do you want me to change then?”

       You shook your head. "Not yet, we're going to be hopping off soon to explore an island tonight, and that outfit is as good as any once you add a scarf." You shift out of the room, careful not to bump into the other trolls. "I'll be above deck getting ready to land; you all just get ready to travel between some sulfur pools." 

       The Signless brightened up "am I also allowed to use your close-" 

       "No." 

       The Signless scowled at your refusal, but you didn't care too much as you marched up the steps into the open night air. 

* * *

 

          It didn't take too much time to direct the ship to the island shore now that the engine was running and even less time to apply the remote anchor from the wheel. Once you locked it in place you went back inside, pleased to see the other trolls wearing plain clothes and cloths over their faces. “Good, you all are ready; you all can go out and onto shore while I put on some more appropriate wear myself.”

          The Signless turned to you again as you got into your office “Why exactly do we need these scarfs?”

          You couldn’t see his face but you could almost feel the Psionic roll his eyes at the Signless. “You’ve never been to a sulfur pool have you?”

          You popped into your room again to grab a violet bandanna and tie it around your face before grabbing a spear and your satchel only carrying a torch. You don’t usually use spears, your preferred weapon will always be the gun, but spears are both a close second and double as a walking stick, which is something you would very much need traversing this area.

          Having all the supplies you should need, you climbed back up to the top deck once more; you jump off of the ship onto the sandy beach beside your shipmates. The Signless still seemed to be talking about the need for bandannas and shawls when you march past him and through the thin band of trees, stabbing the sear into the ground ahead of you as you walk.

          The others began to follow you as you hike through the sparse vegetation and into the body of the island, which now being there you can properly see. The land seemed to look like a quilt of dessert and grassland, with pale and red sand blowing into occasional patches of grass.  Going further in you saw the red sands more often until it dominated most of the path you were treading save for streaks of tan that lead up to a rocky mound at the heart of the island. The most notable feature of the field, however, was the brilliantly clear pools of water that steamed and bubbled beside the path you laid out. The depths of the water were vibrant shades of light teal and deep blue that was almost crystal clear past the vapors. The Signless paused by one of them as the pool began to bubble violently before erupting in a plume of water about twenty feet in the air.  Despite being taken aback by the sizzling of the water itself, he seemed to be frozen in awe at the event.

          You groan exasperatedly and shift your attention to the star eyed troll. “Signless, come on, we have to go.”

          “But Dualscar! Did you not see that? How does that even work that was beautiful!?”

          “Yes, I did, I’ve seen stuff like that a-” your eyes widened when you see the ground shift and trickle steam under the other troll’s feet, “-SIGNLESS LOOK OUT!” you shouted as you grabbed the Signless and pulled him out of the way just as the sand below where he just stood gave under, causing a mini burst of sand and toxic water to leap up and blast the group with a plume of sulfuric steam.

          The rest of you party immediately pulled their scarf’s up to their noses to block the stench. All except for the Signless, who was gagging as he shuffled out of your grip. “So- oh- augh- what the fu-urrgh-oh gog… Oh gog the fuck-” he pulled up his scarf to cover his face as he coughed violently “Ohhhh my gog that smells like fifty rotten eggs-”

          “No shit it smells like fifty rotten eggs, it’s _sulfur_ ” You hissed, barely holding back your own fit of hacking. You put your hand up closer to your nose and keep walking, using your free hand to stab the ground with your spear in case of surprise eruptions.

          When you finally reached the mound, you circled it’s perimeter until you found a gaping bore in its side, leading down in to the underbelly of the island. From the sides of the cave you can see trickles of water flowing into the tunnel, presumably causing the large trail of rancid steam to pour from the mouth of the hole.

          Before you can enter, however, the Signless tugs at your shirt. “Hang on; you’re not going _in_ there are you?”

          “Well, yeah, that’s sort of the whole point of coming here.”

          “But I don’t think we-” he clears his throat. “Rather I don’t think _I_ can handle much more of this.”

          That makes sense. Toxic fumes, as minor as they are, certainly have more of an effect on lowbloods, which he himself likely is. “That’s alright, you can stay out here; although you should probably stick with someone in case you have another sudden mini eruption goes off under your feet again.”

          The Disciple smiled and wrapped an arm around the Signless’ neck in a way that should in no way be comfortable for either of them. “Fine, I’ll do it. I don’t think I can stand even more intense concentrations of this putrid smog without writing wonderfully descriptive poetry on how I vomit all over the sands of this island-”

          “Oh my gog _please_ stop talking.” The Signless interjected with a tone of bewildered horror at what the Disciple was describing.

          “Sorry, Sign, you’ll be sticking with me for however long their little expedition’s going to go. Maybe to pass the time I’ll serenade you with my ideas for the latest chapters of my black rom trilogy.”

          “Nooooooooo-“

          “ _Yeeeeeeeeesssss-_ ”

          “Oh my fucking gog, can you two please shut up until _after_ we hop into this potentially deadly maw of a cavern?” The Psionic growled, “If you two keep going you might write your own autobiography that would be way raunchier pitch flirting than anything you could make up.”

          You whipped your head to the gold blood in surprise. “You’re coming with us?”

          The Psionic shrugged in response. “I mean might as well, right? I’ve had to work in places like this before so I might even fair better than you.”

          As pitiful as the idea of the Psionic working in a cave full of sulfuric fluids is, he did have a point. “Alright… if you’re okay with that… but if it becomes too much don’t be afraid to get out or ask me and the Dolorosa to help you, okay?”

          The Psionic nodded and headed through the entrance of the cave, followed by you and the Dolorosa. You looked down at the darkened depth of the cavern as not to slip while decidedly ignoring the stare that the Disciple gives you as you descend.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I notice in a lot of fics involving the signless and the disciple they rarely display acts of pitch flirting  
> I see this as a wasted opportunity.


	8. Must have caught a good look at you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one reads a little weird, I typed this up on my phone instead of a computer 
> 
> I SUGGEST YOU RE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER IS YOU HAVE NOT ALREADY SINCE I HAVE EDITED IT TO ADD A BUNCH OF STUFF. THAND YOU.

Almost as soon as you dropped into the cavern you had to cover your nose from the sudden intensity of the stench. The Psionic and Dolorosa were already there doing the same, looking around at the lower levels of the island. The streams of water continue to flow down from here into a vast expanse of underground lakes, all spewing vapor. From here you can already see the bright warm colors that coat the earth touching the water, forming small, coral esque structures at the bottom of the pools. Some of the springs are lit up by a pale teal light, illuminating much of the cave. It would likely be fatal to touch the water down here, and not just because of the heat. The bacteria in these waters are known for eating trolls from the outside in and inside out in a matter of days. Fortunately you shouldn't have to worry about that, as there is a narrow path that seemed to weave around all of the hot springs, and more fortunate than that, there were footprints. 

You smiled and took the lead, careful to stay on the path that seems to have a higher concentration of prints, "Looks like we're lucky, there does seem to be something here." You still poked ground in front you, as you didn't know how long it's been since the first visitors of this place left, but you do so more sporadically.

The other two trolls were closely behind you in single file until there was a fork in the path. You raised a hand to halt them and looked the walkways over. "Both of these seem to have been walked on, but I doubt that they have both have treasure."

The Dolorosa looked over his shoulder, trying to peer into the darkness ahead. "I don't want to stay here longer than we have to. There probably isn't anyone here so it probably wouldn't hurt to split up."

You nodded and took the right track. "I'll go this way, anyone want to come with me?"

The gold blood glanced back at the Dolorosa and walked up next to you, arms crossed and shoulders trying not to look tense. "I'll go."

Her eyes narrow with a matriarchal concern. "Are you sure?"

He nodded, which thankfully seemed to be what the Dolorosa needed to head to the other side of other path. She starts to move on quickly, almost quick enough to get out of sight before you stop her.

"Wait," you dug into your bag and held out a glow stick. "You should have this. I don't think there's any more of those light lakes."

The jade blood smirks and shakes her head, "don't worry I'll be fine without." She says before stepping out of sight. Raising a brow, you cracked the stick  and shook the chemicals inside until it started to glow violet. Once it began to light up everything for fora good enough distance, you started to walk with the psionic deeper into the tunnels. 

From the light, you could still see the water flowing around your path, filling up terraced pools that overflowed into other bowls of rock. You would have admired the miraculous formations more if it weren't  for the noticeable blue light just around the next bend.

You immediately crouched down hiding your light deep in your bag. The gold blood behind you mimics your stance while you silently pad your way to the edge of the cave wall blocking your vision. From there you could see a pair of trolls, both blue blooded, chatting by away by a closed chest. One of them, the indigo, was sitting atop the container while the other troll stood closer to the edge of the flat terrace. You silently cursed as you notice the strange looking eye of the other, likely meaning they were a cerulian. You you adjusted the grip the spear in your hand so you can toss it, then whispered to the troll by your side.

"I'm going to chuck this at the indigo. Once I do. We'll take down the cerulian together. Got it?"

The psionic nodded, so taking a deep breath you turn the corner and hurl the spear true, striking the blue blood though the shoulder and into the wall. You and the psionic started to move quickly, getting close to clearing the path and on their rock platform when the cerulean screeches, raising a hand to his temple.

Before you can reach him, the psionic collapsed on the ground, trembling as his nails scrape the earth.  _ Shit _ . You whipped around and crouched down, holding his shoulder and trying to get him out of the blue bloods hold. Behind you the troll growls.

"How fucking  _ dare _ you miserable grubs of trolls strike my matesprit? I'll paint this cavern like the grand highblood's chambers you piece of shit!"

Sure enough, he starts to head towards you and your companion, drawing a large, serrated knife. You're stuck gripping the psionic's trembling form, offenseless and defenseless, and trapped in a corner. You could feel your fins stinging on your neck as the start to flare while you shift your body to protect the gold blood behind you.

Before he got close enough to lunge at you however, blue and red begin to flash behind you, which is all the warning you get before a full ok blast of monstrous energy slams into the cerulean, seeing him into the cave wall. As the psionic was doing so, the cerulean screamed in sheer agony until it trailed off in a high pitched whine. Only when the blast stopped did the troll fall pathetically into a body of sulfuric water, causing a hissing splash.

The psionic was standing again when you turn back around, though his knees look like they were about to buckle. You caught him before that could happen properly of course, and he stayed there for a good long couple of minutes, gasping for breath and clutching your sleeves. You gave him his time, not caring about the audible purs coming from you. Eventually his breathing evened out, but he still kept clinging to you which was… oddly fine. Your mind can't even protest at the pale implications of what just happened when everything since now had been pointing to flush. You slowly move your hand up to his shoulder.

"Hey, shhh… will you be alright?" You know he's not alright. No one is alright after being controlled by a cerulian, but his nod gives you a bit of relief. Deciding that he likely won't want to move away, you start to telegraph your movements. "Come on, let's just go over to this terrace, alright? It's probably safer." You and the psionic moved slowly, but you got there on time. By this point the other has passed out from blood loss and is slumped over your spoils. You lay the psionic against the wall and away from the gory scene assuming him that he'll be away for just a second. When the gold blood hummed in allowance you clench on the spear and ripped it from the trolls shoulder, resting him to the side, but not precariously and opened the chest.

There wasn't much in the chest that quite as notable as the two handed gun at the top. You pick up the rifle, noting it's strap that you use to attach to your back. You also grab the more valuable gold and jewels that were also held in there. With spoils taken, you turn back to the psionic and help him get up, standing beside him to block the mess at you both headed back. He seemed to have calmed down considerably, now not reaching out for your hand.

The travel back up with the others outside of the cave is a blur until you actually get there, to which the three trolls turned to the two of you. They all looked quite shocked and the Dolorosa downright furious, but before they could start asking questions you interrupt, "We'll talk about it after we get back to the sea, let's go." You attempted to make your tone leave no room for argument, and it looks like it succeeded. Along the way back you notice the psionic stays closer to your side, though primarily still orbiting the signless.

You reach the ship without much fuss and go below deck. You noticed the others eye you warily as they went to their quarters. You started to go to one of the guest quarters again but the psionic stopped you.

"Wait, you… do you not stay in the captain's room?"

You shrug. "I was guessing you would want to rest early after what happened and it's the more comfortable place to rest."

His mouth thinned to a line of annoyance. "I get why and all, but I'm not going to fucking deprive you of your own damn room while we're on here." He interrupts you as you try to argue. "And Don worry about waking me up,last time I just woke up at around the usual time I normally do." He gave you a look that wiped protests just as effectively as your voice back at the mouth of the cave, so you sighed.

"Alright then, but don't try to spook me when you wake up this time?"

The psionic smirks "no promises."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you know how I left for a week so I did a double update? It was because. Went to yellow stone and saw some kick ass geisers that basically inpsired this entire island.
> 
> EDIT: im too tired from galaxy con to finished the chapter today so ill update tomorrow


	9. Everyday for someone new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I  
> Hate  
> Typing  
> QUIRKS-  
> *****TRIGGER WARNINGS for a descriptive panic attack/flashback in the second half of the chapter****

  _Dear Diary,_

_It’s been about a wveek since the four strangers and I left together and it’s been… okay. Mostly anywvays, we havwen’t met up wivth anyone on the ocean that didn’t steer clear of us so they’vwe been taking it easy. I’vwe been teaching the dolorosa and disciple the anatomy of the ship and plan on teaching the other twvo the basics by the end of the month. Looking ovwer some of the empty Capsules, The Psionic suggested that he fill them up wvhile they’re there. Nowv that I’m actually thinking about it, I remember Signless asking about what would happen if someone opened a full Capsule. I mention it to make a mental note here that I should actually knowv the answver that, since it wvould hypothetically be vwery easy for someone to do._

_Psi also said that I should look more carefully at wvhat I put on the ship im sailing, to wvhich I replied that if I did that they wvouln’t be on my ship themselvwes. ~~He looks swvee-~~ Apparently he likes it wvhen I’m grumpy, wvhatevwer that means. _

_\----_

_Dear Diary,_

_We just passed through Mindfang’s patrol area today, wvhich got me wvorrying again. Of all the people I’m concerned that wve’ll encounter soon, she’s ~~number one~~ in the top twvo ~~I don’t wan’t to talk about the top one~~ on the list of people I don’t wvant these people to meet. Signless didn’t seem to get it though, since he’s sure that Mindfang is going to be a friend of ours if she comes, and that wve should activwely find her._

_Now, I belivwe he is right wvhen it comes to his vwisions. He basically provwed that upon immediately meeting me. But I_ knowv _Mindfang, I knowv this vwersion of her better than the Signless, so I logically decided that wve wvill be doing the exact opposite of that suggestion. This made him frustrated and then one thing led to another and The Disciple and The Psionic were holding us back from each other. Thankfully the Dolorosa is a vwoice of reason so wve’re not going searching for Mindfang._

_~~I spent the rest of the day teaching spit to Psi.~~ _ ~~~~

_\----_

_Dear Diary,_

_Signless keeps complaining that this is not wvhat he pictured, as if he thinks the life of a pirate is alwvays pillaging and plotting ships. Honestly, he acts like a grub sometimes. Fortunately, the other members of his group seem to agree with me, though havwe apparently gotten used to it._

_Wvhat is certainly different in comparison to the others is the fact that I think he’s been trying to make me pissed at the Psionic, it’s like he’s trying to pitch flirt wvith me_ for _Psi, but also pale flirt? He muddles the lines a lot, I don't entirely get it. Jokes going to be on him though; The Psionic and I havwe been trying to get him and the disciple together evwer so subtly. Still trying to figure out wvhich quadrant they should be in though. Psi suggested they might not even need a quadrant, being great in all of them, wvhich I… I don’t knowv howv to feel about. Again the amount of vwacillation going on could rivwal some of the disciple’s novwels it’s been making me uncomfortable. I think I’m going to talk to Psi about it tomorrow. ~~I h~~_ ~~~~

_\----_

_Dear Diary,_

_Wvhile I told ~~Psi~~ The Psionic about howv I felt, he just snapped out of nowvhere, I couldn’t make out wvhat he wvas saying, as I wvas a bit too wvorried about the psionics wvhirling around the room. I yelled at him to calm dowvn before he tore his owvn room apart ,wvhich seemed to be effective in stopping him, but only to the point that the sparks stopped. Then his anger simply shifted to a quiet vwoid. I’m not sure how long wve stood there, but it wvas long enough that wve couldn’t attend to anything that day. Wvhen wve let go of each other he say anything. I had a lot of questions. I didn’t ask any of them. He keeps saying sorry. I keep saying it’s fine._

_~~I can’t bring myself to say I’m sorry too.~~_ ~~~~

_~~I knowv I’m sorry, I just wvish I knewv wvhat for~~_ ~~~~

_On a side note The Dolorosa can make some kickass meals._

_\----_

_Dear Diary,_

  


_Oh dear Gog-_

_\----_

                “Aloe, Erifin! Whaaaaaat’cha reading?”

                Eridan jumps in shock as Feferi leans over your shoulder, dressed in business attire. 

“O-Oh, hey Fef, I uh… wait why are you wearing your work outfit?”

Feferi frown at him with a look of confusion and concern. “Be…cause I was at work?”

“At work? But I thought that was…” He squeezes the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. He realized his head was hurting, a lot, and he didn’t know why. Looking around his block, the sea dweller notices things are… off was the floor originally tile or was he forget about some recent renovation they did? He could have sworn he saw a bunch of desks with husk tops... He’s also suddenly aware of how dry his mouth is, only to discover that the bottle of faygo that he was using has long since been emptied of its contents. Placing the bottle back on the table, he leans forward and puts his forehead into his hands.“That was a two week long trip… If you’re back that means…” He bolts up straight, eyes wide with worry “Oh gog that means it’s been like… more than two days-”

“Eridan? What’s wrong talk to me-“

 In a panic, Eridan grabs the bottle of pills on the desk and downs two, keeping deathly still as he waits for them to take effect.

Feferi then realizes what is happening and starts to move in to try and shoosh pap him but he shies away from Feferi, shaking his head. Feferi nods and starts to slowly move her hands away before Eridan snatches her hands himself and pulls them close. Together they look down at them, Eridan’s vison swimming and shifting what he sees. Withdrawal from sopor can have terrible side effects that vary from person to person. At best it’s terrible nausea, at worst they go into a full blown rampage. He’s pretty sure his involves some sort of weird, messed up flash back.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Her voice sounds muffled, muted. The violet blood tries to close his eyes and concentrate on her voice, but he hears the clear sound of a chainsaw revving that got his eyes to pop open wide. His vision is blurry and then focuses onto his hands. The right one is holding something. It’s small and cylindrical; he clutches the wand in his hands. The wand bleeds with hope, its eldritch white tendrils leading up to his ex moirail, a look of shock and horror etched on her face due to the now gaping, bleeding hole in her chest, it was her fault, hers and Sollux, they shattered any hopes he had along with the damn angels. His hopes of love, of survival, of-

Except that he wasn’t there. He blinks as the image of Sollux against the wall dissolves and blinks again to see Feferi, not at six sweeps but eight. Attempting to take control of his ragged breathing, he looks down at the pill bottle in his hand, shaking it to make the pills inside rattle. “ …I’m back..” He mutters.

Feferi smiles out of relief and hold her hands up, silently requesting for an embrace which he immediately accepts. She wraps her arms around Eridan, her chilled arms feeling comforting. He didn’t even know he was crying until he felt the damp, new stain on her shoulder. Not wanting to ruin her outfit he tried to push back but found that he was held firmly in place by her hug. “F-fef, the suit-”

“-Can be washed, I have plenty.” One of her hands comes up to stroke the other’s dyed hair shooshing him gently

This reminds him of the old times, all those sweeps ago, where he would come crying to her for one reason or another. He had never reciprocated though, never helped her during her own hard times, thinking that by trying to commit genocide he would somehow be able to erase all of what he saw as problems for her.

“…Jegus, I’m awful at this…”

“Shhh, no you’re not, you would have done the same for me…” She chuckles sadly, voice still muffle through his ears. “You have done the same for me, haven’t you? You’re not that person anymore.” Right. He remembers that time in the kitchen, fef lying against the wall. Except she and the others were victims, not like him, he… he did this _to_ them he caused their trauma of course it’s his fault, it was never not his fault. “Sorry…” He croaks softly. He wishes he could say more, but he knows he cannot.

The fuchsia blooded troll puts her hand up carefully to his face, gently patting him as he closed his eyes.

His senses cleared in stages as the medicine took effect. First it was hearing as the sound of Feferi’s voices regained clarity. Then his sight as the tears in his eyes stopped blocking his vision with violet. Then finally he could bring himself to move and talk once more, peeling himself off of his moirail. “This was probably not the best thing to come back too.”

Feferi only smiles and turns to the book. “Is… is that cronus’ diary?”

That brings out a laugh in Eridan. “In a way yeah, this was Dualscar’s diaries. I think I’m about… a quarter of the way through? Maybe?”

His quadrant mate looks at him skeptically. “Forty eight hours of nonstop reading got you through a _quarter_ of them? How many does he have?!”

Eridan pouts and glances at the stack of still untouched books, mumbling, “It wasn’t a full forty eight… I think I passed out at some points…” The remark made the former heiress scowl.

“And Aradia didn’t think to take care of you?! Did Aradia not help you out for any of that? UGH! I swear to Gog… I get Sollux, he’s going to be back in a couple of days but she has no excuse! So what if she doesn’t want to be in any quadrants with you, she shouldn’t neglect you to the point of you having a withdrawal trauma episode! Just…Ugh!”

Eridan stares at Feferi in surprise and shock. “…Fef?”

“What?”

“Is- do you… are you pitch for Aradia?”

Feferi looks like she just got slapped in the face as a blush coats her cheeks “ I- No! It’s just… Not important! What is important is taking care or you as someone CLEARLY has not been!” Her voice softens as she continues. “Now come on, let’s hop in a ‘coon, I think we both need it.”

Eridan nods as his moiral pulls him up from his seat, bringing them to their respite block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know in the comments how I did on that part, as someone who does not have ptsd nor have any people close to me with ptsd I had to look that up and I don't know how well I depicted it. If it's somehow offensive or horribly inaccurate in any please let me know and I will do my best to edit it.


End file.
